They're Either Hyenas Acting Mighty Queer, Or Else
Two Lionesses."
We snatched our glasses and concentrated on that important
detail.
To catch the third experience you must have journeyed with us
across the "Thirst," as the natives picturesquely name the
waterless tract of two days and a half. Our very start had been
delayed by a breakage of some Dutch-sounding essential to our ox
wagon, caused by the confusion of a night attack by lions: almost
every night we had lain awake as long as we could to enjoy the
deep-breathed grumbling or the vibrating roars of these beasts.
Now at last, having pushed through the dry country to the river
in the great plain, we were able to take breath from our mad
hurry, and to give our attention to affairs beyond the limits of
mere expediency. One of these was getting Billy a shot at a lion.
Billy had never before wanted to shoot anything except a python.
Why a python we could not quite fathom. Personally, I think she
had some vague idea of getting even for that Garden of Eden
affair. But lately, pythons proving scarcer than in that favoured
locality, she had switched to a lion. She wanted, she said, to
give the skin to her sister. In vain we pointed out that a zebra
hide was very decorative, that lions go to absurd lengths in
retaining possession of their own skins, and other equally
convincing facts. It must be a lion or nothing; so naturally we
had to make a try.
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